Jack Sparrow's voice was sharp, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, sounding particularly jarring on the silent deck.
Roger stopped his foot, which had been poised to kick him into the sea, and watched him with interest.
"Oh?"
"Tell me about it."
"If this secret doesn't satisfy me, I'll dismantle every single black iron bone in your body and make a mahjong set out of them."
On the deck, the eyes of the two gamblers, Buck and Billy, instantly blazed with fiery passion.
Although they didn't know what mahjong was, the Captain's ideas were always so constructive and never disappointed.
"It's about that box!"
Jack scrambled closer, lowering his voice, and said mysteriously.
"The black, skull-adorned box I gave you!"
"Davy Jones is probably arriving soon!"
Roger's movements paused.
The the heart's chest.
He, of course, knew that the the heart's chest belonged to Davy Jones, and he also knew that it would sooner or later attract its rightful owner.
But he hadn't expected it to be so soon.
Even more unexpected, the first one to issue a warning was Jack.
"So, your secret is to tell me something I already know?"
Roger flexed his wrist, his knuckles cracking with a crisp 'ka-ba ka-ba' sound.
The moment Jack's words fell.
An anomaly suddenly occurred.
The previously gently undulating sea surface became still without any warning.
There wasn't a ripple, it was as smooth as a giant black mirror.
Immediately after, a cold, damp, thick fog, emerging from nowhere, swiftly enveloped the entire the explorer.
Visibility instantly dropped to less than ten meters.
"Damn it, what's going on? Fog?"
"Something's not right, this fog... it smells like a seafood market."
The pirates on the deck stirred uneasily; even their newly upgraded black iron skeletons felt a bone-chilling cold in this eerie fog.
Only the two gigantic sea monsters, their massive bodies now huddled along the ship's sides, their numerous tentacles restlessly churning the water, let out low, mournful roars.
"Hector! Be on guard!" Roger shouted.
Before his words had even finished.
A faint, eerie, and sorrowful organ melody drifted from the depths of the thick fog.
The music seemed to carry a magic, seeping into everyone's bones, stirring up the deepest despair and fear in their hearts.
"Cap... Captain... he's here..."
Jack Sparrow's teeth chattered, and he collapsed onto the ground.
"Damn it, who's blasting music and dancing outside?"
Roger irritably dug at his ears; he hated such pretentious entrance methods.
The next second.
The thick fog churned.
A colossal and dilapidated ghost ship slowly rose from beneath the pitch-black sea, alongside the explorer!
Countless waterfalls of seawater cascaded from its hull, which was overgrown with seaweed and barnacles.
The menacing figurehead at its bow, the tattered, gaping holes in its sails, and the grotesque crew members on its deck, fused with the ship's body—all proclaimed its ominous and terrifying nature.
The Flying Dutchman!
"I... I'll be damned... Captain."
Buck and Billy, those two fearless rascals, now also gaped, staring blankly at the ghost ship, which was more bizarre than any myth.
"Billy, I feel like... our ship isn't as cool as it is."
"Nonsense, look at their decor style; you can tell it has more historical depth than ours."
"Alert! Alert! Legendary unit 'The Flying Dutchman' detected!"
The system's voice flashed frantically in Roger's mind.
"The opponent is using a large-scale mental pollution BGM! It is recommended that the Host immediately activate 'NetEase Cloud Time' for countermeasures! This store exclusively provides the 'Midnight Sad Literature' music library, guaranteed to make him cry for his mother!"
"Shut up!"
Roger's gaze pierced through the thick fog, directly locking onto the bow of the Dutchman.
There, a figure stood before an organ, playing that desperate melody with his giant, crab-claw-like hand.
He wore a Captain's hat, his left hand was a massive crab claw, his right leg was a wooden peg leg, and his face was covered in slimy, octopus-like tentacles.
Davy Jones.
He stopped playing and slowly turned around.
He didn't look at anyone, he just raised his head and stared intently at the direction of the Captain's Cabin of the explorer.
A voice, a mixture of salty seawater and endless resentment, echoed across the dead silent sea.
"I can feel it..."
"My heart..."
"Who... dares to imprison it!"
His voice carried endless anger and pain, like a beast whose heart had been stolen.
On the deck, everyone except Roger, including Hector, all involuntarily took a step back under this terrifying pressure.
They were undead.
But the aura emanating from this monster was an ancient fear that transcended death.
"Another one coming to collect a debt?"
Roger dug at his ears, then grabbed his tin megaphone from nearby.
He cleared his throat and, facing the eerily styled ghost ship, issued a friendly greeting from the civilized world.
"Hey!"
"Octopus-bro opposite! Can you hear me?"
"Littering is wrong! Your heart fell onto my ship, do you know how hard I've worked to keep it safe for you?"
Davy Jones's tentacle-covered face clearly froze for a moment.
The shrimp soldiers and crab generals behind him also stopped moving and looked at each other.
Octopus-bro?
What was that?
"According to our company's regulations, item storage incurs a fee."
Roger, holding the megaphone, began his most proficient business negotiation.
"Seeing as you're my first supernatural client, I'll give you a twenty percent discount."
"Storage fees, venue fees, and my emotional distress compensation, rounding off the change, you just need to pay one million gold coins."
"If you pay now, I can even give you a free exquisite urn... ah, no, an exquisite collection box."
"Cash or card?"
Davy Jones's tentacle-covered face froze.
The shrimp soldiers and crab generals behind him also stopped moving and looked at each other.
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